


Rescue (me)

by ferer56



Series: Rescue (Us) [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferer56/pseuds/ferer56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aboard a meteor hurtling through Paradox Space, Vriska Serket attempts to rescue her matesprit from the deadliest foe they've ever faced: alcoholism. Of course, contending as Vriska is with an all-consuming kismessitude, is she even capable of rescuing herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue (me)

You stalked through the corridors, purpose gracing your every well-intentioned step. You had been planning this for days now, wracking your thinkpan for the best way to approach the thorny relationship problem you had been so purposefully ignoring for months now.

Well, that wasn’t quite fair.

After all you had been busy, very busy indeed. Who would have thought that the daily bullshit occurring between six people of differing castes, backgrounds, and even species constrained in a tight space on a meteor hurtling through paradox space would have been an even greater challenge than the defeat of Jack Noir?

Oh right, that had been you.

And the best part was that there was, to your knowledge, still about a sweep to go. Luckily you had found an outlet for your mounting frustrations. The perfect proxy for your rage, perhaps the only one who'd ever be worthy of your black solicitations. You wanted to weave a tapestry of pain into the very sinews of his musculature. You wanted to carve your name so deeply into his mind no degree of sopor would allow him to forget. You wanted to be the constant whisper in his nightmares,  the ominous blade held high above his unsuspecting neck.

You wanted.

You wanted...

You balled your fists, halting in your tracks as memories of life _before_ came rushing unbidden into your mind. You steadied yourself against the wall, knees buckling beneath your weight. You steeled yourself. Now wasn’t the time to fixate on this. After all, you had to be ready for the minefield you were about to blunder into with all the grace of a one-winged honk-beast. There was really no avoiding that though, no matter how long you schemed. That was just the nature of the game you two played, a game you intended to win.

At any cost.

With a deep breath you forged ahead. Yet all your hard work soon came to naught, as turning a corner a familiar lazy smile flitted into view. Your blood-pumper nearly fell into your chest. You stumbled in your step, earlier conviction melting away. Now all that mattered was him, and the suffering you were going to unleash upon him. Every bone in your body screamed out for blood, his blood. You felt your teeth sink into your lip, as you approached him, righteous fury coursing through your veins. As your vision eightfold bored a hole into his half-lidded eyes, you wondered if he felt the same. Hell, you wondered if he felt anything at all. Perhaps he really was all impulse, simply caught on you for the moment, repeating until released. Or until his skull caved in. Not that it mattered; the outcome would always be-

*honk*

And that was really all it took for rationality to escape you.

Your name is Vriska Serket, and once again you had been routed.

You awoke with a start, sweat and makeup smeared across your skin in thick ugly swatches. Yet you had more important concerns at the moment than the disgusting colors caked upon your body. You scanned the room for any sign of your kismesis, but of course there was none. Your claws dug deep into your palm, pale cerulean blood trickling down your wrist.

Once again, you had let him leave alive.

Guilt gnawed at you, an insidious worm slithering throughout your mind, tearing away at whatever remained of your fragile conscience. You hastily covered yourself, pulling the remains of your tattered jacket along aching arms. You had no idea where your pants or boxers had disappeared to amidst the assorted junk scattered all along the room. At least your jacket was long enough it would protect your modesty, if not much else. Even that slight boon was tempered by the fact the grist it was costing you to continually re-invent your wardrobe was beginning to put a dent even into your hefty savings. You stood up on two shaky legs, almost tripping on one of Gamzee’s ridiculous fucking horns. You breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing you would absolutely lose it if you-

*honk*

One epic meltdown later, you were ambling down the hall looking for your room. Well, looking would be putting too fine a point on it really. You were really just shoving doors until one of them opened; half-remembering you’d left your respiteblock unlocked. As you went about your righteous quest, you tried to quiet the disturbing thoughts looping through your head. After all, you reasoned, you only continued to suffer the deranged clown’s existence because of the promise you had made to your matesprit to be a better person.

You gulped, tongue like cotton against the cavern of your throat. You slammed your shoulder roughly against a door, falling into a respiteblock with boundless grace. You didn’t bother getting up, simply kicking closed the door that had wedged itself against the wall. And hey, lucky break, you had even managed to stumble into _your_ respiteblock. It was, after all, covered with a carpet of your own design. Well, a design you had begged Kanaya to make for you quite some time ago. A design you had long since lost, therefore having to make do with this shitty knock-off. You would have asked Kanaya to make a new one for you, but the two of you weren’t currently on speaking terms.

Mostly because she was dead.

“ _Why are you upset? Did my motherfucking murdersis have first dibs?”_

You bit your lip, not having time for this fucking pity party. You were stronger than that. Stronger than anyone you knew. You pulled yourself together, an admirable effort given the creaking of your joints and the hazy fog clinging stubbornly to your mind. For the second time you stood up, rubbing smearing makeup from ruddy cheeks. Your pupils wandered over to your concupiscent platform, half-expecting to see crossed legs hanging daintily over the edge along with a curt inscrutable smile appraising your every move.

But of course, there was no such phantom there.

After a brief effort waking up your sleeping legs, you made it to the ablution block. Tired, bloodshot eyes looked back at you, as you washed the filth off your face. Well, the filth hands could reach anyway. You didn’t let that dissuade you, scrubbing and washing until you looked like a million boonbucks.

As if she’d even notice if you hadn’t.

You groaned as you twisted the knob of your ablution trap and sunk into the warm steaming water, relaxing for the first time in too long. You let the water crash over you, gently submerging yourself as thoughts of clowns and murder ran rampant in your head, grim visions you’d never bring yourself to do.

Because you were such a good person now, of course.

It didn’t take you long to dry off and alchemetize a new outfit. You took a cursory sidelong glance at your god-tier robes accumulating dust in your closet, before stepping out again into the world such as it was. You cracked your neck, determination drumming down your spine. You made a beeline for Rose's room, tired of all the excuses you kept making for yourself. You almost didn’t see the stout, shorter Troll. Not that it would have made a difference if you hadn’t.

“Hey, watch where the fuck you’re going you blind ass barkfiend!” He growled, as you tried, and failed, to keep the rising smirk off your face.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” He crossed his arms defiantly, anger barely hidden beneath his stubborn glower.

Of course you had to fuck with him.

“Have you seen your moirail anywhere?” You asked as nonchalantly as your rising mirth would allow, his expression hardening before your very eyes.

“You stay the fuck away from him.”

“Vacillating again Karkat? I don’t need an auspistice.”

“I’m serious.” He added, voice rising in tenor. “He’s not in the right mental state to be goaded into whatever passes for a kismesissitude in that dysfunctional pan of yours.”

“Oh there’s no need to be so _dramatic_. I’m only kidding. I have far more dangerous prey in mind.”

“Whatever.” He huffed self-righteously. You had the feeling he wanted to say something else, but obviously thought better of it, instead slinking off into the shadows.

“Toodles _Karkat_!” You shouted after him, voice lilting. You didn’t even try to hide your shit-eating grin, a noticeable spring in your step as your knuckles made contact with the door.

“Who is it?” A familiar voice trilled, sending your blood-pusher into a tizzy and totally flat-lining your earlier good humor. Of course you should have expected as much, but you still had the audacity to hope.

“Me.” You responded succinctly, hoping she wasn’t so plastered that-

“Vriska? Come in, come in!” Well, at least she was still sober enough to recognize your voice. You took a big gulp, as you opened the door to your matesprit’s respiteblock. And nearly tripped over one of the many empty soporifics littered about.

“Jesus Lalonde, would it kill you to clean up after yourself every now and then?” You snapped, sidestepping yet another mound of half-empty bottles, until that point unaware how frustrated the current situation was making you. She was reclining on a couch, feet dangling haphazardly over the armrest. To call her hair frazzled would be an understatement. Her hairband couldn't stem the sheer multitude of little hairs jutting to and fro along her scalp at the most awkward angles. Even from a distance, her robe absolutely reeked of a thousand varieties of alcohol. It was so stained with soporific effuse that had Kanaya somehow clung to life, the sheer sight of someone wearing such a travesty would have surely finished the job.

It hurt just taking her in.  

“Maybe my room could do with a little spring cleaning.” She mused obliviously, half-lidded eyes focusing all their meager energies on your presence.

You nearly cringed. That intelligence which had once so intrigued you hidden behind those purple veils had vanished, replaced with a thousand mile stare that reminded you of-

You beat down your rising fury, fingers twitching frenetically despite yourself. Through grit teeth you got straight to the point.

“We need to talk.”

It was almost as if a switch had been flipped inside the human’s brain. Her dopey grin fell with an almost audible thump, lips pursing enigmatically. Any thoughts you had of Gamzee vanished, as her eyes pierced right through into your core, sending shivers crawling down your spine. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No I-”

Wrong move.

All the tension drained from her face. Like a flickering flame, the spark lighting her eyes had vanished as surely as if you’d stamped it out yourself.

Which you had.

The words spewing from your protein chute no longer even mattered. In one fell swoop, she had de-fanged you more effortlessly than Terezi ever could. Her incisive question had stolen the one threat you still possessed. And it had really been that easy for her too. For eight seconds you’d managed to rouse her from her dreamless slumber, only for her to slip back into that drunken complacency which was so surely killing her before your very eyes.

Gog why were you such a fucking idiot?

You’d lost before the game had even started. Checkmate. All your hours of careful planning: undone just like that. It was pointless to continue, she wasn’t listening anymore. This had been a stupid idea from the start. Meddling simply hadn’t been what you were hatched to do. Rose was one iron that would simply have to wait. For what you had no idea, but certainly not for you.

You stood up, her blather unimportant now. You half expected her to yell for you to stop, to shake out of her drunken stupor just long enough to reel you back in. But life wasn’t like Karkat’s shitty rom-coms. That strength which had so enamored you to her from the first time you had trolled her didn’t just dissipate for you. She never let her guard down, an iron curtain from behind which she viewed the world without fear of retaliation. Even spiraling as she most certainly was, she wouldn’t let you close enough to wound her. You couldn’t help but admire that, bloodpusher beating quickly in your chest as you turned your back on her.

You closed the door. Well, slammed it to be more precise. You slunk down against the cold unfeeling wood as whispers of your weakness danced around your head. After all, it had been you had cracked first. You’d likely never live that down in the passive-aggressive tit-for-tat that was your relationship with Rose Lalonde. Well, what it had used to be anyway, before she took to finding solace from the bottle rather than your arms. You sighed wistfully. You had never had so many concupiscent quadrants filled at once before. So why did you feel more alone than ever? Fuck, you almost missed Kanaya’s constant meddling and fussing. You’d taken her for granted, and now look where you were.

You shook the insecurity from your mind, the breadth of your weakness offending you. With practiced poise you stalked down into the darkness. Soon enough you heard the grating sound of honking all around. The faintest smile graced your lips.

You did not try very hard to stop yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> May end up making this a series, rather than a one-shot. We'll see.


End file.
